


Overwhelmed

by CedarTheBarefoot



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom John Marston, F/M, Kissing, M/M, Multi, Naked Cuddling, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Coital Cuddling, Riding, Rope Bondage, Threesome - F/M/M, Top Abigail Roberts Marston, Top Arthur Morgan, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:00:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22068907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CedarTheBarefoot/pseuds/CedarTheBarefoot
Summary: To be overwhelmed. To be stressed. But what about overwhelmed and stressed in a good way? An agonizing teetering between too little and too much. Not quite enough until the very last moment. Sounds like sweet torture. If you want something from your lovers, well, you need only ask. That was what Arthur, Abigail and John had agreed. It just so happens that this time, John had asked first.
Relationships: Abigail Roberts Marston/Arthur Morgan, Abigail Roberts Marston/John Marston, Abigail Roberts Marston/John Marston/Arthur Morgan, John Marston/Arthur Morgan
Comments: 5
Kudos: 100





	Overwhelmed

**Author's Note:**

> Gods, I love these three together.
> 
> Folx, I’m starting off the New Year right. With porn. Threesome porn. 
> 
> Enjoy.
> 
> Happy New Year!

John took a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying desperately to relax. A task which was nigh on impossible while quite literally being tied down to a bed by one lover, and being tortured by the lover. 

“Torture” might be a strong word to some folk, but they must not have ever had the lips of Abigail Roberts wrapped around their cock. 

He’d already come off twice. She’d only let him breathe for a moment each time and then went right back to it. Taking all of him into her throat, swallowing, humming, grazing her teeth ever so gently against the crown, tongue lavish and determined. All the while, she slickly was opening him up, pumping her fingers in and out of his hole, crooking them in the right spot. Driving him absolutely mad. And then she would stop again, just when it was getting on this side of unbearable.

A deep, throaty chuckle sounded over his head. His hands, bound together by the wrists were suddenly jerked taut over his head. A warm, calloused hand stroked his cheek, “You alright there, Johnny boy?”

John opened his eyes and looked pleadingly up at Arthur. The big man had paused in his expert winding and tying of ropes. He watched the muscles along John’s abdomen clench, and his legs lifting off the bed slightly, hips struggling to keep still as Abigail descended on him again. Relished how his brow arched and he whined, “Ahhh!”

“Think you might wanna ease up a bit, Abby?” Arthur smirked, leaning down, “Have mercy on the poor thing.”

John whimpered against Arthur’s mouth as he kissed him upside-down. 

Abigail flattened out her tongue, licking a slow stripe from root to crown. Passing the tips of her fingers over that spot inside him again while doing so. John gasped breathlessly, “Shit!” His thighs tensing up and quivering as the small of his back arched from the bed. 

“Might be none of him left for me,” Arthur chuckled, pulling away from his lover’s mouth, “with the way you’re carrying on like that.” He let go of the rope over John’s head and circled around the bed. 

Abigail hummed in amusement, “Plenty of him to go around,” gently pulling her fingers from John’s hole. They both stroked soothing hands along their lover’s flesh as he shuddered at the loss. 

John wiped deliriously at the sweat gathering on his face. He was surprised and confused at how much slack Arthur had allowed him. He was wiping at the tears gathered in his eyes when he felt strong hands hook under his knees and drag him across the bed.

A small sound of anticipation left him when he was pulled just to the edge, and a familiar, waiting hardness pressed against his groin. The slack in the rope became taut as he was dragged from one side of the bed to the other, his hands pulled tightly over his head now. Tugging experimentally, he found no give. 

“Don’t hurt yourself, now, darling,” Abigail murmured, straddling him. She turned around in his lap slightly, drawing Arthur in for a kiss with a fistful of his dark blond hair. The big man obliged her, groaning, rubbing the head of his slick cock back and forth over John’s entrance.

They were so damn pretty, the both of them. Too much for words. Though John was feeling wrung out and overstimulated, he wanted to watch them kiss like that forever just as much as he wanted them to get on with whatever was about to happen. 

He couldn’t help moaning encouragingly when Abigail ground her hips down against his. Her fold rubbed firmly over his straining prick, and he shuddered at the teasing wet heat. Finally releasing Arthur, raking her nails down John’s chest. Not hard enough to leave any lasting marks, just hard enough to hurt a little bit. In the meantime, John’s legs were pulled further apart, hands supporting their weight just under his knees. 

So much. Overwhelming. Hands everywhere on him. John believed himself at that moment, and not for the first time, to be the luckiest son of a bitch alive.

Abigail dipped low and traced her tongue over his lip. He gasped against her mouth when he felt Arthur pressing the slick head of his cock against his hole. “C’mon, boy, relax,” the bigger man grunted, stroking a hand up the back of his lover’s thigh. 

“M’tryin’,” John breathed. “Fuck, s’hard with you two torturin’ me.”

Abigail hummed with delight, sounding too pleased with herself. She made noises like that when she was fixin’ to do something. Not quite mean. But certainly not helpful. Especially not in relaxing.

She reached between them to line John’s prick up and began to sink down on it. 

“ _Fuck_!” John cried out, turning his head to press his face against his arm. Clenching his teeth. 

Arthur chuckled warmly, smoothing a hand down her back. Her skin was soft and warm with their joined pleasure. There were her strong shoulders and the dip of the valley of her back. Some cute little freckles that the two men liked to admire with sweet touches and tender kisses when she’d let them.

“Ya really are torturing him tonight, ain’t ya?” He murmured, gently running his hand over her bottom, watching how she seated herself fully in John’s lap. Pleased with seeing how John’s cock disappeared inside of her.

Abigail smiled, breathing deep at the fullness, “He asked for it.”

“That he did,” Arthur relented, finally able to press himself inside of John who was taking calculated breaths as his body trembled. 

“Besides, he’s sure worth it, ain’t he?” Abigail murmured, cupping John’s cheek, running her thumb along his kiss-reddened lips. In return, their captive licked and nipped at the digit. Attempting to maintain some semblance of control, John whispered, “Please.”

Whether he was asking for more or for mercy, he wasn’t sure himself. 

“Please, what? Speak up, Johnny.” Arthur asked, stroking his calloused hands up and down John’s thighs, groaning when he bottomed out. His groin was tucked up nicely against both of his lovers’ arses. _What a sight_ , he thought to himself.

“Gotta ask us,” Abigail teased, carefully rotating her hips in his lap. 

“Jesus...I want you both to fuck me, but go slow, please. Fuck, oh! God, this...ahh, Abby, please...go slow, I don’t wanna come yet. Not yet.” 

And his lovers listened. 

Abigail and Arthur’s movements became easy and tender while John got used to it. They watched him calm, his muscles loosening up, his arms tugging less at his bonds. He even closed his eyes, dropped open his mouth and started sighing. 

Experimentally, Arthur gave a sudden hard thrust. Both John and Abigail responded with breathless groans. So he did it again. And again.

“Good?” 

His answer was a pair of delirious moans, prompting him to pick up the pace. He watched how Abigail started following along, bouncing in his lap. He watched every quiet muscle under her lovely skin flex as she moved. Leaning forward, he mouthed at her nape, looking over her shoulder at John as he did. 

The poor man. He’d been put through so much this evening. He was huffing, tearing up, crying out at the dual sensation. Face red with pleasure, brow arching up. Then he set his teeth to his lower lip, furrowing his brow. Concentrating.

“Think he’s gettin’ close, Abby,” Arthur grunted, adjusting his footing, pounding roughly into him. 

“I know, I can feel him,” she sighed, having been rubbing at her clit for some time, watching the brunet’s face. She could feel every twitch inside of her, each causing a jolt of pleasure. She had to make the most of it while she had it knowing that it would be borderline cruel to make John come off a fourth time that evening. 

Three was enough. 

A rush of heat suddenly came over her. Arthur watched how she tensed up, back bowing. She tried so hard to keep her pace, keep moving, chasing after her own orgasm. Using John’s body for herself. A series of jolts spread through her nerves. They watched a wave of a shudder collapse within her, and ride up her spine until she threw back her head. A rush of wetness spilled against John’s groin, and she wailed in her release. She held herself up on trembling arms, listening to Arthur’s harsh, pleasured breath against her ear.

“Fuck, how does she feel, Johnny?” He growled.

He and Abigail watched how John’s body struggled with its immobility, well and truly helpless. Abigail had just enough sense to hold him down by the shoulders to keep him from wrenching anything important out of place. She kissed him through his final cry of release as he clenched down on Arthur as she had on him. 

The big man groaned, pressing his face into between Abigail’s shoulders. Their combined scents mixed together, heady with heat, sweat and sex. Only moments later he was coming off, burying himself as deep inside John as he could. 

A whimper left the man in question, feeling full with Arthur, and thoroughly kissed by Abigail. Fucked well enough by both of them. She sucked on his lip, gently grazing her teeth against it. A weak sound of satisfaction was her reply.

Everything became still then. They panted together, all trying to catch their breath. Fighting off the remnants of their release. Or surrendering. 

John suddenly gasped against Abigail’s mouth. Her breasts were pressed against his chest and she felt how he tensed up and wriggled. “Shh,” she murmured, kissing him again. In return, a muffled whine got caught up in his throat.

Arthur chuckled, finally having pulled himself out of his lover. He brushed his fingers over the wet rim of his hole, dipping in, tugging gently. He pressed his thumb against John’s taint and rubbed at that bundle of nerves from both sides. 

John cried out, “Oh! F-fuck, Arthur, no more, please!”

The big man eased his fingers out and smoothed an apologetic touch up the back of John’s thigh. “Sorry, sweet. Couldn’t help myself with you drippin’ like that. Full of me.” He dropped a kiss on the inside of his knee before easing his legs down to walk around to the other side of the bed again. 

Abigail got her knees back under her and carefully pulled off of John’s softening cock. He lifted his head, watching how she dripped onto him and quickly knew exactly what Arthur was talking about. Dropping his head back to the bed, he heaved an exhausted sigh and closed his eyes. 

The rope loosened as Arthur untied his carefully placed knots. When it was unwound, he dropped the length of rope on the floor for tidying later and slowly lowered John’s arms down to his sides. Together, he and Abigail rubbed tenderly at the red marks around his wrists, bringing back feeling and easing any aches. 

“He sure looks pretty, all satisfied like that, don’t he?” Abigail mused. 

“Yeah, he does,” Arthur agreed, watching the blush creep over John’s features. “Specially when you tell’im that he looks pretty.”

“I ain’t...pretty,” he murmured weakly, cracking open his eyes to gaze up at his lovers. “You’re pretty.”

“Why thank you,” Abigail smiled, “but you _are_ pretty too.”

John reddened further, shook his head and made to speak, “No I,” and he involuntarily shouted out, “ _ain’t!_ Oh god!”

Arthur had taken a hold of his soft cock and was rubbing his thumb firmly over the crown. 

They watched how his back arched up, his knees jumping as his thighs tensed. 

“Fuck! Okay! Okay, okay, I’m, ugh, I’m pretty too. Fine, I’m pretty!” John relented, breathing hard and slumping into the blankets when Arthur released him. 

“Now that weren’t so hard, was it?” Arthur drawled lowly, caressing the scarred side of John’s face. 

“You two’re...gonna kill me one day.” He panted, glaring.

Abigail began to ease herself from the bed. John weakly touched her hand. She patted it and went over to the wash basin. “I know it was a bit much a few times there,” she said, “Was it okay?” 

John smirked. Smirked that special kind of smirk. The smirk that meant he was real pleased with himself. “Oh Yeah. More’n okay.”

Arthur hummed, shifting down to lay beside him. “You get to feel properly overwhelmed?” He murmured into his ear, “Like you couldn’t take it?”

John bit his lip, the low timber of Arthur’s voice stirring something electric in him. Not as physical after all of the sex, but still with some semblance of pleasure. He turned his head, and kissed the big man. Slowly. Deeply. Conjuring up weak sighs and tiny moans between them. 

“Hate to interrupt, but if I wake up even remotely stuck to the two of you, I ain’t gonna be real amused,” Abigail said, easing onto the bed, ironically sounding amused. She’d brought water to quench their thirst. John drank most of it, and the other two didn’t mind after what they’d put him through.

Arthur took one of the wet flannels she had and wiped himself off. 

John swallowed as the two of them pushed his hands away when he reached for a flannel. 

“You cleaned up last time.”

“Let us.”

He closed his eyes and only let himself feel. The flannels were a bit cold from the basin water. It was alarming and refreshing at the same time. He pressed his lips firmly together when they gently washed his very sensitive cock. His heart thumped a little quicker when his legs were pushed up and his hole was subject to similar treatment. 

And then there were their lips. Kissing at the place where his arse met his thigh. Up behind his knees. At his hips. His belly. His chest. Pausing to nip and tease at his nipples. His throat. And finally his lips. Taking turns. Kissing slower, and deeper. Pulling him further onto the bed. Wrapping their limbs around him. 

Humming in relief and contentment, John nuzzled against Arthur’s chest hair. Abigail eased her thigh between his from behind, tucked her nose against his nape. Collectively and accidentally the three of them heaved one final sigh to fully settle themselves. 

It was quiet. 

Until Arthur murmured, “That was fun.”

“Mm,” Abigail and John both agreed.

“I might like to be on the receiving end of all of that next time.”

Abigail and John both blinked their eyes open to look up at Arthur. The big man’s eyes were closed, and he was smirking softly. That special kind of smirk. 

John glanced over his shoulder at Abigail. She cocked an eyebrow, smiling in an excited, plotting way, “That can be arranged.”

“We’ll need more rope,” John said. 

“Yes. Yes, you will,” Arthur yawned, flexing his muscles. Showing off a little for them. He smirked again when he felt their hands clutch at him a little tighter. 

“...Maybe a stronger bed too,” John added.

**Author's Note:**

> Comment and/or kudos! Lovely to hear from you!


End file.
